Ink and Bandaids
by Kendra Luehr
Summary: Lee Holloway, an awkward, young sado-masochistic secretary, comes to Gotham after her divorce to live with her aunt. Will a certain painted man with knives, and an equal love for pain, help her reconnect with her freer side? ::Secretary/TDK xover::
1. A Change of Scenery

**A/N** - I decided to take a brief break from "Jack's Descent", because even though I'm _so_ close to finishing it, I'm getting frustrated with finding the proper wording for what I'm trying to say. So yeah, this idea came to me a couple days ago after watching "Secretary" for the umpteenth time, so I hope you like it. I don't own The Dark Knight or Secretary, and I most _certainly_ don't make any profit from writing this, so with that said, enjoy! :)

**CH 1: A Change of Scenery**

My family thought Edward and I would be together forever, and considering how we were the only sado-masochistic couple in the neighborhood, I genuinely thought so, too. Or rather, I thought so until _Bethany Myers_ came to town. According to Edward, she was even more of a doormat than _I_ was, and, unable to resist his urges to be in complete and full control, they'd secretly developed a dominate-submissive relationship five months before even bothering to tell me. They're now happily married on the outskirts of LA, while I'm here sitting here on this stupid train going to live with my stupid, cat-crazy aunt in Gotham City, NY.

I was too embarrassed to admit to my family that I'd filed for a divorce, so as far as they know, Edward and I are still partaking in quirkily erotic rituals. I wish to God that Edward and I _were_ still doing those things together, because in spite of the recent bitterness between us, I still happen to love him very much. He was the reason behind my attempts to stop cutting myself, but now that he was completely out of my life, I gradually found myself more and more drawn to the idea of buying knives, scissors, iodine, and other little trinkets and putting them into a sewing kit like I used to.

Poking my tongue out of the corner of my mouth, I checked my wristwatch as the train finally pulled into the station. 9:45...perfect timing, considering how I could just opt for bed instead of conversation. It wasn't that I didn't love my aunt, but all that was _truly_ on my mind was the fact that I needed to be cut, and _fast._

Filing off the train like all the other passengers, I felt like a sore thumb as I stood there searching for my ride. Everyone else was dressed in professional pantsuits, skirts and ties, while I stood there looking doddy, unkempt, and completely unfashionable. I'd opted for my favorite polka dot jumper that day, but now as I felt people examining me like a bug under a microscope, I immediately regretted my decision. Maybe I should've gone with the leopard print pantsuit, instead?

Before I could berate myself a moment longer, I heard a shrill squeal that caused the surrounding people to part like the Red Sea, my Aunt Martha now waving emphatically as she crowed, "Lee! _Lee!_ Oh, my little darling, let me look at you!"

Wincing when she eagerly pulled me into her arms, I mumbled simply against her shoulder, "Hi, Aunt Martha."

Not seeming to notice my shyness, she framed my face with her hands while praising, "My, look how _pretty_ you've grown! Such lovely blue eyes!"

"Aunt _Martha"_ I warned, feeling the heat rush to my cheeks. It wasn't that I didn't like compliments, but I knew I wasn't pretty (from a conventional standpoint, anyway), and I was thin, awkward, and as nerdy as they come. Edward said I dressed like a slob, and I had a weird quirk where I stuck my tongue out when I typed. I knew these things were true, but somehow I prided in them since they'd always gotten Edward's attention. Now, however, they seemed like a nuisance since I wanted to prove that I could get over him...that I _could_ survive without the one man who'd cured my pain.

Completely unaware of my inner turmoil, Aunt Martha took me by the arm and began leading me toward the parking lot. As I tried to avoid tripping over my own two feet, she blithely announced, "Now I know you've been out of a job ever since you married that _awful_ Mr. Grey, so I took it upon myself to get you a job interview!" She paused for dramatic effect, her big blue eyes shining as if she was _some_how expecting me to shower her with praise.

Gazing back at her in open-mouthed surprise, I finally managed to choke out, "Oh..."

_"Oh?"_ Aunt Martha repeated, appearing considerably disappointed. "Is that really all you have to say? I got you an interview with a group who needs a _secretary_, Lee, so I would've thought that you'd be more excited!"

I winced. "A-a _secretary?_ Aunt Martha, I don't really think that's such a good idea..." I'd started my short-lived career as Edward's secretary, so what made her think I wanted to re-live those painful memories? If I took on another secretarial position, I'd undoubtedly be comparing and contrasting both of my experiences, and that was something that I most certainly was _not_ willing to do.

Suddenly cold in her mannerisms, Aunt Martha snapped, "I want you up bright and early tomorrow morning to meet these nice people. They're apparently an exclusive group, so you're _very_ priviledged that I found out from that nice young cop down the hall."

"Cop?" I asked, suddenly confused.

"Yes, I think her name's Anna-something-or-another, but that doesn't matter. What _does _matter is that you'll be employed again!" she chirped, her bleached curls bouncing as she clapped her hands. When she behaved in this manner, she reminded me of my mother (who was coincidentally also her sister), and I couldn't help but feel slightly homesick. Not for home itself, but for the sense of normalcy I got from the established routine: breakfast at eight, driving father to work by nine, TV until eleven, lunch around twelve, and anything I wanted to do until bed at ten. I've always been comforted by the idea of having a structured, orderly life, but _only _if I'm constantly being told what to do. There's something very arousing about being ordered around, so I guess that's why Edward and I got along so well.

Finally deciding to humor my aunt, I disinterestedly asked, "So what time do they want me there?"

"Five, but I figured you should make an impression and come in at 4:30" Aunt Martha explained, giggling at the look of horror on my face. "Oh, don't be such a pessimist, my little darling! This is what it's like out in the working world, so I'm afraid you're just going to have to get used to it."

"Yeah, but _4:30? _That's when some people actually turn in for the night" I complained, primarily only to be argumentative. It wasn't that I wasn't grateful for my aunt's help, but I really would've just preferred spending my time moping over my old wedding album. It was only three years old, but it somehow seemed ancient to me every time I looked at the cover. The romance inside that had once existed was now dead, so I guess that in some strange, morbid sort of way, it really _was_ old.

By the time Aunt Martha and I made it home, it was close to eleven o'clock, and even though my aunt seemed insistent upon talking, I just wanted to get to my bedroom and unpack....and along the way, maybe look for some _'things'._ By this point in my journey I was tired, irritable, and felt a strong desire to inflict pain upon my weary body. I was so numb that I _needed_ to know I was still alive, so after kissing my aunt goodnight, I set off in search of some good 'utensils'. I hadn't brought any knives or scissors, but to my delight, I _did_ find a pair of petite fingernail clippers in my overnight bag.

Eagerly sitting down on my bed, I hitched up my skirt and rolled down my pantyhose, my tongue peeking out in concentration as I bared my left thigh. Pinching my flesh so I'd have a raised area to work with, I brought the fingernail clippers forward and snipped at my pliant skin. My eyes watering, I took a small inhalation and did it yet again, reveling in the small, bleeding red welts that began forming across my flesh.

Even though the tiny, stinging pricks of pain flowed exhilaratingly through my body, I somehow felt a sense of defeat since I knew I was back on the path to destruction. I never inflicted pain on myself to be fatal, but ever since my accident six years ago, I've been very wary about cutting too deeply. It's funny how one false move can end it all, but I suppose my need for normalcy overrides my fear of death, and believe it or not, cutting myself _is_ extremely normal to me. I've been doing it since the seventh grade (I stopped after meeting Edward), and I consider ten years to be a very substantial length of time for committing self-harm.

Padding into the bathroom, I began riffling through the medicine cabinet in search of something -- _anything _-- that could top off the pain. I always called this special something my 'chaser', because after I'd use it, I always felt light and blissfully disconnected from my body. Pushing some bottles to the side, I grinned when I found some iodine and greedily pulled it toward me. Hastily uncapping the bottle, I dabbed some of the liquid onto a cotton ball, then diligently rubbed it against my sore wounds. Almost instantly a sharp, delicious burning sensation flared across my cuts, my eyes closing in rapture as I felt an emotion similar to serenity flooding through my veins. Somehow I always felt at peace after this little ritual, but I knew that by the time I woke up I would still feel as empty as before.

Now turning to regard my reflection, I stood up straight and arched my back so my breasts were more pronounced. There were bags under my eyes due to lack of sleep, and my lips seemed pale and drawn as I observed my gaunt features. As I said before, I've never been exceedingly gorgeous or anything, but I most certainly wasn't accustomed to looking so tired and droopy. Running my fingers across the dark circles under my eyes, I twisted my lips in disapproval and pushed back my long, wavy chestnut hair. So much for 'wowing' the people at my interview tomorrow. If I wanted to look professional and alert, I knew I needed nothing short of a miracle to look even _remotely_ presentable. There wasn't a concealer stick in the world big enough to cover my current blemishes, but I nonetheless squared my shoulders and said (loudly, just like my psychologist had taught me) "I am a beautiful, _successful_ young woman, and I _will_ get that job tomorrow.....with Revlon's help."

With a half-hearted smile on my face, I gave a confident nod (which was definitely more confident than I actually felt), and plodded out of the bathroom to get some sleep.

--

My irritating alarm went off at 4AM (and by that I mean my Aunt Martha), her smile far too sunny for my bloodshot eyes as I groaned and rolled back over in bed.

"Ah, ah, aaaah, you wake up now, you little sleepyhead! You don't want to miss breakfast!" she gaily chirped. Now taking the two bottom corners of my bedsheets, she whipped them off my body like a magician removing a table cloth, my legs curling up toward my chest as I shrieked from the sudden (not to mention _unwelcome_) cold.

"Come _on,_ Lee, you don't want to be late for your interview!" Aunt Martha snapped, finally appearing as if she meant business.

Groggily rolling back over to face her, I rubbed at my eyes while sitting up in a half-comatose state. Although I knew I should be excited, all I could think about was spending some more 'quality time' with my new bed. We'd just met last night, after all.

After dressing in a drab top and skirt, eating a breakfast of cardboard-like toast, and going through the painstaking effort of masking the dark circles under my eyes, I begrudgingly got into the backseat of Aunt Martha's Sedan and promptly spread out. The position I was in (not to mention the entire situation, in itself) reminded me of my interview with Edward, and I couldn't help but sour as I succumbed to the unwanted memories.

The streets had a lot more life at this hour than I'd expected, but that still didn't prevent me from missing my bed with the warm, paisley sheets. The thought was enough to make my eyes droop, but Aunt Martha's chipper voice gaily cut in, "Sooo, what do you plan on saying to these nice men today? Anything in particular?"

I shrugged, irritable since she'd interrupted my attempts at sleep. "I dunno, whatever they ask me, I guess."

"That's it?" Aunt Martha asked, clearly unsatisfied with my response. "You need to be _assertive,_ Lee, so I expect you to introduce yourself as the former secretary of Mr. E. Edward Grey."

I winced. "But what if they were recipients of some of my typos? I don't think it's a very good idea to link myself to Edwar...to Mr. Grey."

Aunt Martha sighed, but it was hardly enough to tarnish her sunny disposition. She was silent for several minutes afterward (which I was thankful for), but when she slammed down on the brakes and gave a squeal, I couldn't help but shriek in surprise.

"What? _What?_ What is it!?"

Turning to give me a dream-like, exaggerated smile, she sweetly patted my knee and cooed, "We're _heeere."_

Dumbly staring back at her for several moments, I finally recovered and reached to unfasten my seatbelt. I knew that I had some serious issues and all, but Aunt Martha was _beyond_ ridiculous.

Ignoring her exuberant wave, I took in a stiff breath and squared my shoulders as I tromped up the steps. This was a rather seedy area of town, and the building didn't exactly look well-cared for, so my opinion of these so-called "men" immediately went downhill. Not that I'd regarded them highly before or anything, but now I had a weird feeling about them since it almost seemed as if they were in hiding. Who worked in a crappy place like this, anyway?

Hesitantly placing my palm against the flat, rusted door, I furrowed my brows as I struggled to push it open. Just when I was about to give up and go back to the car, I realized that I had to _pull_ the door in order to open it, a sheepish smile crossing my lips as I gave a giggle-filled "Oh" and did what I was supposed to. As soon as I entered the building, I was surprised to find myself surrounded by complete darkness.

"Um...hello?" I called, clearing my throat after discovering how dry it was. When nobody answered, I frowned and tried yet again, "Hel_looo?_ Is anybody here?"

Blindly groping my way through the room, I finally bumped into what felt like a medium-sized card table, my eyes gradually adjusting to the dark as I realized that there was a figure behind the table. Why hadn't he _said_ anything?

"Hello?" I called again, by now growing a tad agitated.

A sudden _'click'_ sounded, and a small lamp on the table became illuminated in order to reveal a thin, trembling man with wide, doe-like eyes. His attention briefly left my face and focused on something behind me, and before I could even react, I felt a strong arm curve around my neck and flick a knife against my throat.

There came a soft giggle, then a dark voice (similar to that of crushed velvet) purred intrusively in my ear, "Hello, there."

**A/N** - I initially planned to make this only two chapters long, but if you're interested, I'll be more than happy to try and extend this to a multi-chaptered story. Please let me know, because if it doesn't get a big enough response, I'll just go ahead and end it in two. Thanks so much!


	2. Addicted to the Knife

**A/N** - I apologize about the long wait, but whenever I have to write a chapter where two characters meet, or anything remotely sexual, I tend to take forever and I year. And since this chapter contains _both_ a meeting and a sexual scene, guess what happened? lol So anywhos, hopefully this won't end up being a complete letdown after taking aaaall frickin' week.

**CH 2: Addicted to the Knife**

Despite the apparent danger I was in, I felt a certain thrill over the blade being pressed so intimately against my throat. Apparently the figure realized this too, because I suddenly found myself being roughly seated on a cold, metal fold-out chair. Did he only enjoy torturing people if they were afraid of him?

Anxiously chewing on my lower lip, I folded my hands in my lap as I listened to the slow, meditative footfalls that were now echoing back and forth behind me. I could hear the man muttering something every now and then, but before I could ask him what was wrong, the gaunt thug in front of me shakily spoke up, "C-can I go now, Mr. J-Joker, sir? I pretended to be you jus' like ya asked, a-and now that we know the girl's not a spy, I think...I-I think..."

"You think _what,_ Damien?" the figure asked, a nasal, condescendingly brusque tone coloring his voice. It was a voice that clearly belonged to a very peculiar man, but something about his current behavior told me not to turn around. I apparently had the right intuition, because no sooner than I'd thought this, I heard the click of a firearm before a deafening '_BANG'_ followed the shot.

Eyes wide, my mouth fell agape when the man's blood splattered all over my face, my breathing growing shallow when I sensed the figure circling me out of the corner of my eye. Before I could even think to move, he was already directly in front of me, his hands deftly pushing the thug's body to the floor before he, himself took a seat. "Now, then" he coolly began, sweeping his arm across the table as if he were cleaning up, "what do we have here, hmm? Another upscale tart looking to, uh..."improve" this city one slum at a time?"

"Tart...? Oh no, I'm not a slut, I've only slept with two men in my life" I insisted, putting on my best "professional" smile. Apparently I didn't say the right thing, because he stared back at me as if I'd just grown a third tit. Nervously fidgeting around in my seat, I hurriedly added, "Um, what I _mean_ is I'm not a tart, I'm a secretary..._your_ secretary, if you're willing to have me. I am a strong, capable, _professional_ business woman used to dealing with all kinds of people. I wouldn't say I'm a people person per se, but I _do _try to get along with everyone."

I heard a giggle from somewhere in the shadows, then there came a creak as the man leaned forward into the dim lamplight. Anxiously chewing on my lower lip, I finally got a good look at the figure's face as he sat there, my jaw dropping at the sight of facepaint and..._lipstick?_ I think I had that exact shade in my make-up drawer somewhere...Sweet Berrietastic, I think it's called.

Tapping my foot out of nervous habit, I allowed my gaze to sweep across his expressive visage, a childish urge to touch his laugh lines causing me to promptly sit on my hands. I'd always loved faces that held character, and something about this man's features spoke to me in a manner far differently than anyone else's. Granted, he was painted up like a clown, but that still didn't prevent me from seeing a certain jaded appeal in his eyes. They were surprisingly beautiful in a dark, shark-like way; I didn't particularly like how he violated me with his eyes, but I still found a certain beauty in them, nonetheless.

As we sat there I could hear the sound of his breathing, which was every once in a while accompanied by a short, moist click of his tongue. Tapping his hands against the table, he gave a resigned sigh as he inspected me from head to toe. "Now, uh...don't take this the wrong way, cuppycake, but you don't exactly _look_ the part for this job. You seem too _innocent_ for this field of work."

"I'm not innocent" I feebly argued. "I've gotten a few speeding tickets in my life, and I also enjoy being spanked." I instantly regretted saying these last words, because the man's brows rose so high on his head that I thought they'd disappeared.

Now shifting about in his seat, the man sneered at me while condescendingly asking, "Peaches, do you even know what the term 'innocence' means? 'Cause, uh...unless you've physically _killed_ someone, I'm afraid you're still very innocent in my eyes."

"Oh..." Concerned that I was losing the job, I feebly spoke up, "W-well once I killed a bunny by accidentally hitting it with my car, and of course I've killed a couple hundred house flies in my time..."

Sighing heavily, the painted man finally asked, "Beautiful, do you even know who I am?"

"Um...no, but that guy called you Mr. Joker before he died."

"Ahh, right, right, right...good ol' Damien" the man acknowledged, now giving me a smug grin. "So with _that_ said, do you honestly mean to tell me that you _still _have no idea who I am?"

"Um..." I swallowed. "...Mr. Joker?"

"No, no, no, not _Mr._ Joker, it's _The_ Joker! You forgot the very important article!" he snapped.

Cringing at his sudden aggression, I meekly nodded and continued tapping my foot. "Alright..._The_ Joker. It's an honor to meet you, sir." Giving him my most approachable smile, I got up from my chair and held out my hand for him to shake, but he seemed to regard my polite gesture with disdain.

Clicking his tongue, the Joker sighed and flicked out a switchblade, my eyes following his movements as he drew the weapon up and used it to scratch his chin. Motioning for me to sit back down, he finally spoke up, "Look, I just need a typist to, uh...write down my "plans" and connections, because I'm tired of miscommunication between me and my men. In addition, my secretary will have to intercept calls, pay off some dirty cops, and blah blah blah. It can be a very _dangerous_ job, so I don't have time for any squeamish little bunnies. I would've pre-_ferred_ to hire a man since they don't tend to have so many pa-_thet_-ic e-motions, but I'm willing to go out on a limb here and give you a chance."

Taking this as my cue to speak, I hurriedly assured him, "I _like_ danger", when in reality, I most certainly did _not._ I enjoyed pain as much as the next masochist, but I never wanted to partake in something that could end up being fatal. Something about this man, however, made me want to try anything to get on his good side.

With a deep-throated grunt, the Joker re-situated himself in his seat before sending me a penetrating look. "Do you like Bats?" he asked.

"Um..._what?"_

_"Bats._ You know, as in the furry, ugly little windkites?"

"Oh..." Confused as to what this had to do with my interview, I meekly returned, "Um..._no?"_

Apparently I said the right thing, because the Joker began bouncing in his seat while releasing several long, unrestrained giggles. "Ha, good answer, honey pot! I can't have some Bat-loving do-gooder trying to foil my plans, after all, so I think we're gonna get along _juuust_ fine."

"Oh..." With a nervous giggle, I felt my lips quirking upward into a forced smile as the room fell silent once more.

After a few more moments of this uncomfortable, nerve-wrackingly quiet atmosphere, the Joker turned to me and asked, "Do you like knives, peaches?"

"Oh, well I...I don't know, I just..."

"Aww, shh-shh-shh, there's no need to be a-_shamed_ of your fascination" the Joker coyly interrupted. "Ever since I've taken my blade out, I've noticed that you can't keep your eyes away from it. Any par-tic-u-lar reason whyyy?"

I shook my head. There was no denying the fact that I'd been watching the hypnotic, arousing manner in which he dragged the knife back and forth across the table, but I honestly didn't know why I liked knives. Edward summed up my fascination best when he'd asked if I cut myself because it was comforting, but with the Joker I was somehow afraid to admit that. After all, what if he didn't want a secretary who did that sort of thing?

Anxiously chewing on my lower lip, I steeled myself as I finally mumbled, "I dunno, Mr. Joker...it's just a really nice knife, I guess. Did your mother give it to you?"

The Joker eyed me strangely, then burst into a fit of giggles. "My _mother?_ HA! What kind of fairytale do _you_ live in, beautiful? I get everything and _do_ everything by my_self."_

"Oh." Pretending I understood exactly what he meant, I nodded and nervously tapped my foot. I've always had my mother's help in my sheltered, closed-off life, so I could only imagine what having to do everything yourself felt like. Although it may seem rather crazy, I thought the freedom sounded kind of..._nice._

As I continued to daydream of freedom, independence, and being a whole new woman, the Joker suddenly rose from his perch and re-adjusted the lapels of his coat. "I wanna show you something" he announced, a mischievous glint coming to his eyes as he motioned me forward.

A little unsure of myself, I hesitantly got up from my seat and began following him toward what looked like...a _wall?_ Within moments, the Joker punched in some type of code and the seemingly plain, drab wall slid to the side and revealed a long corridor. Feeling as if I were some sort of secret agent, a goofy smile came to my lips as I drifted after him until we came to a tall, narrow cabinet at the end of the hallway.

I wanted to ask him why he thought some _furniture_ would interest me, but that was before he opened the cabinet and revealed to me the most beautiful, breath-taking sight I've ever seen. Giving an awestruck gasp, I couldn't help but smile as I gazed upon row after row of glistening, stainless steel blades. Each one was different from the other, and each had been honed to a perfectly sharp tip. The sight made my flesh tingle in anticipation, my teeth biting into my lower lip as I watched him remove one of the knives. Holding it up in front of my face, he asked, "What is it about knives that makes us not only fear, but covet them? What is it about kniiiives that makes them so...a-_rou_-sing?" Now drifting the blade down my cheek in a barely there caress, the Joker looked deep into my eyes as he persisted, "Blades like these bring a fifty-fifty chance of death, and with it a cut so sensual, so e-_rot_-ic, that you can't help but envy your victims when they breathe their last breath."

Feeling the blade against my skin, I shivered as I felt the sharp tip gliding across my jugular, my eyes fluttering closed as I subconsciously leaned into its deadly touch.

Reaching out and grabbing a fistful of my hair, the Joker pulled me close until I could feel his warm, stale breath on my face, my knees quivering as he granted my wish and pressed the knife more snugly against my skin. Running his serpentine tongue across his lips, he lowly purred, "When a blade is used to shed blood, there's something so visceral, so utterly or-_gas_-mic, that you find yourself craving that steel kiss...you find yourself _longing_ for that sweet release of blood from the body."

With a soft moan, I grasped at his wrist and ushered the knife to gently cut into my flesh, the familiar, delicious sting causing my panties to grow considerably damp as we stood there, both gazing eye-to-eye and breathing heavily. I could tell that the Joker wanted to cut further into my skin, because his feral eyes kept darting from my neck to the knife, to my eyes, and then back to my exposed neck, again. I wanted to tell him to cut me -- that it was _alright_ to hurt me, but somehow I wasn't sure I should let the Joker know about my masochistic tendencies. My last office romance had ended badly, after all, so why did I want to go through all that again? And with a _madman?_

Even though I was still in the Joker's death grip, I felt incredibly calm and still _very_ aroused. There was nothing overtly attractive about this man, but I found myself wanting to unbutton his pants and take him in my mouth...to give him as much pleasure as he'd just given me with one small, curved blade. I wanted to tell him to cut me, to _screw_ me, to do whatever he damn well pleased with my willing vessel of a body, but instead I meekly asked, "So, uh...does this mean I got the job?"

The Joker appeared taken aback by the sudden change of topic, but his cool, collected facade soon returned as he abruptly released me. "The typewriter's in the back, as well as the fridge, some supplies, and whatever else you may need. Since this clown needs to rest up for his big debut tonight, consider this your first day of work _and_ your first day off. What other boss would do that for you, hmm?" Grinning, he added (as a very important) afterthought, "Oh! Uhh, you can come in tomorrow around six 'o clock. I like my coffee as black as my heart, so you may need some practice bewing a pot 'evil' e-nough for my taste."

Realizing that he was joking, I gave a louder laugh than was necessary, then instantly regretted it when he gave me a funny look. Couldn't I do _anything_ right around this man?

After the Joker showed me back to the front of the building, I practically skipped down the stairs as I returned to Aunt Martha's car. She'd been reading some sordid romance before noticing me approach, her hands immediately flinging the incriminating evidence to the floor as she chirped, "Well how did it go, my little angel?"

Barely able to repress my grin, I breezily returned, "I got it...for a second there I thought my new boss might change his mind, but he didn't."

With an exuberant squeal, Aunt Martha announced that she was taking me out for a root beer float, my smile only widening as I turned and gave my new office one last look.

--

When I went into the kitchen that evening, I was genuinely surprised to find that Aunt Martha hadn't "Lee-proofed" the silverware. After rummaging through the various drawers, I found a long, curved blade that was similar to the one the Joker had used, my knees quivering with excitement at the memory of his cold, rough touch. Pausing my fantasy so I could check to see if the coast was clear, I quickly padded back toward my room and shut the door behind me, my heart racing over the prospect of what I was about to do.

It wasn't like I'd never masturbated before, but using a blade was definitely going to be a new experience for me. Something about the Joker's speech had been incredibly erotic to my senses, so needless to say, I'd been inspired to try something new and exciting this evening.

Lying down flat on my bed, I took in a deep breath and slowly pulled my nighty up over my hips. Holding the knife steady in my hand, I then slipped the blade inside my panties and tore the thin cloth asunder. The sound of the ripping fabric brought a strong, unexpected jolt of pleasure to my groin, my eyes closing as I now imagined that it was the _Joker_ doing these wonderful, delicious things to my body. I could still see his dark, animalistic eyes in my mind, my hand now turning the blade so that the hilt could rub against my moist, stimulated nub.

With a soft gasp, I tilted my hips and began to grind almost desperately against the handle, my knees quivering as the ache in between my legs only intensified. I knew I couldn't get off with touch alone, so I carefully forced the hilt of the blade to penetrate me. Biting down on my bottom lip to stifle my soft moans, I purposely began rubbing my thighs together so that I'd get scratched. My actions weren't rough enough to deeply break the skin, but I found that I was gradually developing several red welts.

Bringing a hand to my left breast, I imagined the Joker pinching and twisting my sensitive nipple with his rough, insatiable touch. Moaning his ridiculous pseudonym, I began to pump the handle inside me at a more frantic pace, my back arching as I pictured the Joker licking a warm, sensual trail from my neck to my ear.

_"Oh!"_ Now panting as I removed the hilt from my hot center, I brought the blade up to my mouth and carefully gave the knife a long, deliberate lick. As I manipulated the blade like a whore in heat, I imagined that it was the Joker's cock that I was so diligently pleasuring, my free hand slipping in between my legs so I could stroke my damp folds. Whimpering lightly, I began to move my hips back and forth for the much desired friction, my eyes closing as I continued to carefully suck and lick the blade. The pressure building up inside my groin was beginning to be too much to bear, the Joker hovering over me in my mind's eye as he ordered me to lick the cum from his tip.

With a frantic buck of my hips, I nearly screamed as I licked the blade, cut my tongue by accident, and came all at once. The orgasm that shook my body started deep at my center, then gradually spread out like tingling flames as a goofy little smile came to my lips. That had single-handedly been my best orgasm since...well..._ever._

Feeling a little embarrassed that I'd gotten off because of my weird, strangely alluring new boss, I rolled over in bed and drifted off to sleep with thoughts of knives and pinstripes.

**A/N** - Wow...sorry if that sucked, but there's something really hard about writing the Joker's speeches when he doesn't have any direct connection to the other character. I can write scenes between J and Rachel, or J and Batsy just fine since I can go on and on about corrupt societies, but since Lee's not a character who has anything to lose, there are different things at stake here. Guess that's why I opted for the knife conversation, considering how that's really their only common ground. Hope you enjoyed, especially since I kept you guys waiting SO darn long!

P.S. Whoever can answer me where the title of this chapter came from gets a cookie! And no cheating! ;)


	3. An Unpleasant Discovery

**A/N** - Yeesh, another slow update! Sorry about that! Anywhos, this chapter takes on a much darker turn, but it's still fairly light-hearted in the beginning. Someone was worried that Lee will give in and be like Harley, and I can full-heartedly assure you that she will NOT. I abhor Harley Quinn, so there'll be no Harley-esque, aka DOORMAT action in here! lol

**CH 3: An Unpleasant Discovery**

As I stared back at my reflection the next morning, I furrowed my brows and tried to figure out what was missing. Perhaps I should try lipstick for a change? The Joker seemed to enjoy it, after all...

"Well who cares what _he_ likes?" I asked aloud, irritation coloring my voice as I frowned. I'd always dressed according to what Edward would approve of, and I wasn't _about_ to make that same mistake twice. It wasn't like I was actually _attracted_ to the Joker, but I knew I held a strange sort of fascination towards him.

Deciding that my appearance was good enough (the Joker was just a deformed clown, after all), I grabbed my things and headed out into the kitchen.

"Ah, well good morning, sunshine!" Aunt Martha greeted in her typical (_irritating_) fashion. "There are some cinnamon buns on the counter, and _plenty_ of frosting, if you're hungry!"

"No, thanks" I mumbled, clutching my purse as I impatiently glanced up at the clock. "Can't you just take me to work now?"

"Oh, is it that time, already?" she asked, following my gaze before rising from her seat. As she grabbed her keys, she grinned while chirping, "As we drive, we can bond and have some nice girl talk!"

_Great._ Can't wait for _that_ natural born disaster.

--

As it turns out, Aunt Martha and I didn't have a girl talk at all, unless you'd consider bunions a nice topic of conversation. Eager to get out of the car, I left my Aunt Martha to her woes and eagerly tromped up the stairs to my new place of employment. This time when I went inside, the lights were on and there weren't any nervous, creepy little men sitting behind tables. So far so good.

There came the sound of soft, slightly off-key humming as I stood there, my brows furrowing in confusion until the Joker made his grand appearance. For a second he gave me a funny look, then nodded to himself as if he'd just remembered something very important. "Ah, right, right, right" he muttered. "I, uh...kind of _forgot_ that I'd hired you, but no matter. Come with me, beautiful."

With a bright smile on my face, I followed closely behind before realizing that I'd never even given him my name. Didn't he want it?

Before I could even think to ask him, the Joker showed me to a small, dimly lit room that smelled suspiciously of pickles. "Welp, this is it" he announced, moving his arm in a half-hearted sweep. "All your supplies are in that back cabinet, the phone and type writer are on the desk, and yadda yadda yadda. If someone named Ratner calls, I'm not here. If the ceiling starts leaking or the AC shuts off, you're out of luck. _Aaaaand_ if you see any rats, don't freak out and try to call for help, because they attack based on your fear."

Wondering if he was merely joking, I decided to just nod and agree as he reached inside his coat pocket and pulled out a piece of paper. "This is your first assignment" he explained.

When I took the parchment from his hand, I gave him a disbelieving look while declaring, "I-it's a _grocery_ list."

"Ooh-hoo, and they say Gothamite women are dumb! Good for you, sugar pop, you just passed my analytical test!" the Joker mocked, a sneer tugging at his lips as he relished in my confusion. "I think the items are pretty self-explanatory, so get to work. Even psychotic, killer clowns need to eat, after all."

I pouted. "But aren't you coming with me?"

"What do I look like, a chick or something? Get moving!" the Joker barked, thus causing me to scowl as I turned and headed back toward the entrance. It wasn't that I didn't like getting ordered around (in fact, I absolutely _loved_ it), but since Gotham was such a strange and unfamiliar place to me, I was hoping that the Joker would at least accompany me to the convenient store. I'd always been taught that a woman shouldn't walk alone in the city, after all, so now that I was out doing that exact thing, I couldn't help but feel a distinct sense of unease flood through my veins.

_'Keep your head down and avoid all eye contact' _I inwardly instructed myself, my shoulders hunching over as I discreetly raised my gaze to see where I was. So far I was the only one out on foot, so I felt a tad better as I continued to search for the convenient store. Gotham was a huge place, so I figured there had to be tons of little food stops to choose from.

I suddenly paused. What if the Joker had a particular place he preferred above all the others? Scowling, I berated myself for not having thought of this sooner, but that's when I suddenly noticed the 7-11 up ahead. _Everyone_ was familiar with 7-11, so surely I couldn't go wrong there!

With a renewed bounce to my step, I smiled slightly as I envisioned the praise I'd receive for not only getting the desired objects, but for also making it back to the office in record timing. The Joker didn't exactly seem like a praise-giving man, but perhaps I could be the one to change that?

Smiling at my school girl-like musings, I pushed open the door to the 7-11 before finally glancing down at the list. Duct tape? Green and _purple_ M&M's? Five cans of _silly string? _This seemed more like the grocery list of a two-year-old, not to mention that the 7-11 didn't even _have_ any of these things!

Completely discouraged, I was about to turn and leave when the man behind the counter suddenly apprehended me. "Can I get you something, pretty lady?"

Flattered by his compliment (and completely loving his French accent), I gave a silly little giggle while showing him my grocery list.

Taking his glasses from his shirt pocket, he placed them over his eyes before mumbling the list aloud. Finally shaking his head, he apologized in perfect English, "Sorry, but we do not serve these things here. Perhaps I could interest you in the items actually on our shelves?"

Pursing my lips, I hesitantly shook my head. "My boss is very particular, sir, so I'm afraid I'll get in a lot of trouble if I don't bring these things back. Are you _sure_ you can't give me a bag of green and purple M&M's at the very least?"

"Sorry, but we do not sell green and purple M&M's...the only time we have purple is Easter, so come back then."

I groaned loudly. "But it's only _July!_ At this rate I'll be fired within the week..."

Appearing to pity me, the clerk finally agreed, "I tell you what, pretty lady; instead of M&M's, you give him cookies and milk, yes?"

I gave him a bewildered look. "Cookies and _milk?_ Well...I guess that could work, but he'll probably be very angry when I come back with those instead of M&M's."

"Ah, well why didn't you say so? He'll want Pez!" the clerk chirped, now placing a toy with Batman's head onto the counter. Noting my skepticism, he cheerily added, _"Everyone_ loves Pez! It'll cheer your boss up in no time!" Adding cookies and a pint of milk to the bizarre 'gift', he tallied up the items before giving me my total. After paying for the goods, I quickly made my way back to the office so I could still at least be on time. I may've failed the Joker with the grocery list, but I was _damn_ well going to be punctual.

"Hello?" I called, practically out of breath once I entered the building. "Mr. Joker, I have your stuff!"

"Back here" came a disinterested voice, my brows furrowing as I made my way toward some sort of back room. The Joker was hunched over what looked like a bunch of blueprints, his hand holding a pair of spectacles over his eyes as he squinted at the fine, fine print.

Eager to please him -- or at least to get him to _acknowledge_ me -- I took the cookies and milk and cheerily placed them onto his desk. Noticing the perplexed look on his face, I quickly explained, "Oh, um...they're cookies and milk."

"I _know_ what they are" the Joker snapped, his eyes narrowing as he lowered his spectacles. "What I _truly_ want to know is what they're doing here. I didn't ask you to steal Kris Kringle's lunch, so take this garbage back and get me what I asked for."

Biting my lip, I remembered what the store clerk said and immediately placed the Pez onto the table. "I got you this, too" I feebly spoke up.

Appearing more perplexed than ever, the Joker leaned forward and poked the Batman dispenser, his lips curling back in disgust a he demanded, "And what am I supposed to do with this thing, hmm? It doesn't even fight back!"

"Oh...well you're supposed to eat it, sir" I returned, feeling my chances at praise plummeting at a rapid pace. "You press on the head, and then little candies come out."

The Joker gave a snarl. "I _know_ what it does, Miss Has-An-Answer-for-Everything! What I _asked_ is what the hell am I supposed to _do_ with it? Last time I checked, criminal masterminds don't eat candy when it comes from their arch rival's mouth!"

"Arch rival?" Looking at the Batman dispenser in confusion, I suddenly put two and two together as I gazed back at the Joker in wonder. So he hadn't been kidding when he called himself a criminal mastermind? I knew there was something different about him, but I just figured it was like the dark tendril inside Edward. This man, on the other hand, rest-assuredly had a tendril from the 7th circle of Hell.

Still a little breathless from my discovery, I anxiously rubbed my arm as I asked, "Um...if you don't mind my asking, sir, what exactly does a 'criminal mastermind' do?"

Upon hearing my question, the Joker's lips curled back into a dark, self-satisfied little grin, his eyes rolling toward me as he purred, "Well I'm _so_ glad you asked, peaches -- c'mere and I'll show you something."

A little nervous as I followed him -- he'd already proven to be incredibly unpredictable, after all -- the Joker led me towards a cabinet before opening it in order to reveal a small, standard color TV.

Upon noting my questioning look, the Joker smugly explained, "After you left work yesterday, I broadcasted my first debut in years. I'm _tired_ of planning new ways to get back at the Bat, so I decided to just throw all caution to the wind and return to my roots." Turning the TV on, he inserted a VHS tape while fiddling with the controls, my breath catching in my throat when the image of a young, terrified little boy flickered across the screen. He was gagged and severely beaten, his left eye completely swollen shut and his lips chapped and bleeding.

There came the sound of a giggle, which was followed by a violent blur of color as the camera whipped toward the source of the noise. The Joker's broad, nefarious grin filled the screen as he gave a mocking wave, his voice nauseatingly chipper as he exclaimed, "Guuuuh-_ree_-tings, ladies and gentlegerms of Gotham! Tonight I have an _oh_-so-special little treat for you, so if you could kindly stop watching America's Next Top Model for one _teensy-weensy _little second, I'll introduce you to my latest guest of honor!" Turning the camera toward the now sobbing boy, the Joker giggled before cooing, "Aww, shh-shh-shh, no one likes a _crybaby,_ kid! Do ya wanna embarrass your folks?"

Holding my breath, I cringed as the boy cried even harder, the Joker giving a whoop while mocking, "You kids these days are just too _soft_ for your own good! I didn't know you'd raised such a _sissy_, Co-mmissioner!" Bringing the camera back around to focus on himself, the Joker sneered while announcing, "Thaaaat's right, ladies and gents. I've got with me none other than Co-mmissioner James Gordon's little brat. He's such a _screamer, _too...he hardly has any fight in him at all!" Belting the kid soundly across the face, he shrieked with laughter while exclaiming, "See? _See!?_ It's pa-_thet_-tic. This just goes to show you that parents aren't pre-paring their brats for the real world, anymore. I mean, uh..._my_ old man didn't hesitate to let _me_ know how things truly are." Brushing his finger across his scars with a smirk, the Joker licked his lips while sustaining, "Anywhos, the rules for my game are ex-_cee_-dingly simple: if Gordilocks broadcasts the Bat's true identity within the next twenty-four hours, I'll let the kid go. _However, _if anyone other than the _true_ Batbreath is named, I'll kill the snot-nosed brat anyway. _Simple?_ I thought so, too."

With that, the screen went black after showing the poor child's face one last time, my lips trembling as I turned to regard the Joker with wide, fearful eyes. "Y-you're a _terrorist"_ I choked out. "How could you do something so heartless? Where's the boy now?!"

"Ooh-hoo, one question at a time, please!" the Joker urged, grinning as he held his hands up in surrender. "In answer to your first concern, I buh-lieve that 'terrorist' is too strong of a word. I pre-fer to think of myself as 'Gotham's Little Helper'."

"But the boy" I desperately insisted, "is he alright?"

The Joker rolled his eyes. "Look honey bear, if he _wasn't_ alright, I would've told you to go mop the blood up off the floor. Gordy and his pigs haven't de-livered Batpoop's name yet, but I know how their minds work. They're hopelessly _weak, _so they'll break down very, _very_ soon."

"A-and what if they don't?"

The Joker sneered. "Well, isn't it obvious, honey bunch? If they _don't,_ I'll kill the brat and mount his little snot-nosed head on my wall!"

"You're a monster!" I declared, shocked once I realized what I'd just said. I'd never, _ever_ gone this far with an employer before (and a dangerous one at that), so I couldn't help but feel a coil of fear wrap around my throat like a noose. To my surprise, instead of striking me or cutting me to ribbons like I expected, the Joker threw his head back in a delighted laugh, his eyes twinkling with mirth as he reiterated, "A _monster?_ Oh no, no, no, sugar pop, the _true_ monster is the man who's making this city weak in the first place. Ever since Battycakes came to town, everyone's just given up and decided to be the damsel in distress. Nobody ever fights for _themselves_ anymore, and do you know why?"

I anxiously shook my head.

Seeming to have expected this negative response, the Joker sneered while sustaining, "No one feels the need to protect themselves anymore, because they have a dark knight...a guardian _angel._ After all, why bother doing the dirty work when someone _else_ will do it for you? By discovering the Batman's true identity, I'm hoping to prove a point to these pitiful street urchins. Without their grand savior they fall from grace, but on the flip side of things, if Batsy _is_ still out there ridding the streets of scum, the people will _still_ fall because of their inherent weakness. See what I'm getting at here, peaches?"

Even though I thought he was more insane than ever, I nodded so that the Joker wouldn't be any angrier with me than he already was. As I did so, however, an eerie glint came to his eyes as a dark, nefarious grin curled across his lips. "Well what's the _matter,_ sugar lump? You look as if you've seen a ghost!" Now withdrawing the blade I both feared and longed for, the Joker came toward me while smoothly purring, "Are you per-haps a-_fraaaaid,_ beautiful? Do you now fear me like all the _other_ ingrates of this city?"

Swallowing, I moved to speak just when his arm coiled around my neck, a soft gasp escaping my lips as I felt myself being pulled roughly against his chest. In an instant, his blade flicked dangerously close to my jugular, my hands grasping at his arm as I fought to keep the knife at bay.

Now petting my hair in an almost reverent fashion, the Joker thoughtfully observed, "Y'know something, you remind me of someone I once met...she had a lot of spirit too, but do you know what happened to her?" I shivered but said nothing, the clown prince's lips now at my ear as he hissed, "I _killed_ her, that's what, so tell me this, honey bunch: is saving mankind _really_ worth your own life? Are you _truly_ willing to risk everything for one small, _pathetic_ little boy?"

"I-I don't know..."

Seeming to relish in my fear, the Joker gave a murmur of approval as he pressed his face against the nape of my neck, his gloved hand moving intimately along my front as his tongue slid across my ear. Repulsed by his actions, I turned to pull away from his touch, but he promptly yanked me back against his chest. How could this man have ever aroused me? He was nothing but a cruel, sadistic monster hellbent on destroying an innocent city!

"Do you puh-_lan_ on warning Gordy where we are?" the Joker suddenly asked, his blade almost teasingly sliding across my lips. "Because if so, I can go ahead and cut your pretty little tongue out right now."

I swallowed. "Um...I-I honestly hadn't thought about it."

"Gooood" the Joker cooed, "and you'll never get the chance to, either."

Confused by his ominous words, I moved to ask him what he meant when I suddenly felt him pinch my jugular, my world spinning as I collapsed into his arms and painted out in a sea of black.

**A/N** - Blarrrrgh! Not sure when J and Lee will have their first little "intimate" moment, but it'll probably be within the next couple chapters or so. I know it seems like it'll be hard to have them come together (no pun intended...maybe xD), but I have my ways. ;) Hope this wasn't a complete piece of you-know-what!


	4. A Teeny Tiny Lapse of Sanity

A/N: GOOD GRIEF, I am SO sorry for dropping off the face of this planet, but...bleh. My professors are majorly riding my ass this semester, so I honestly haven't had any time to write. It sucks.

But anywhos, after further inspection of the movie, I've come to the conclusion that the Joker ISN'T a masochist (contrary to popular belief), but I'm going to write him that way so he and Lee can still have a common ground. I mean, the ONLY time the Joker seems amused by pain is during the interrogation scene. During all of his other fights, he doesn't laugh or even crack a smile, save for the ending when he was tossed off the building. He only laughed THEN because he thought he'd gotten Batman to break his rule, not because he was all eager to feel the pain. I honestly think he was laughing during the interrogation scene because he'd gotten Batsy to crack, and it was pretty damn obvious that J was the one in control during that scene, not Batman. I mean, he might've said "hit me" and all that jazz prior to that scene, but I believe it's because he wanted to prove Batman's human and capable of murder just like all the rest of society. And wow...I totally went on a tangent. Whatever, just read and be happy...it's got limey content, so there ya go. lol

**CH 4: A Teeny-Tiny Lapse of Sanity**

When I awoke several hours later, I felt as if a giant anvil had been dropped onto my head like in one of those old, campy Saturday morning cartoons. I groaned and rolled over onto my side, my temples throbbing as I dizzily took in my surroundings. The room was completely dark, save for the city lights streaming in from the long, broad glass window overlooking the streets of Gotham, but this did little to assuage my fears.

As my eyes adjusted further, I soon realized that the Joker was standing a few feet away from me, his shoulders hunched as he gazed out the window with an impatience that confused me. He kept rocking back and forth like a metronome, and as I finally moved to sit up, he turned from the city skyline and locked his dark eyes directly with mine.

"Ahh, so you're finally awake" he purred, a pleased grin crossing his lips as he crouched down in front of me. "Since you said you liked being spanked so much, I decided to give you a masochistic little _thrill ride_ and tie you up for the evening."

Finally noticing the pressure around my wrists and ankles, I gaped down in astonishment at the rope binding my body securely in place, a momentary tingle of excitement surging through my veins when I recalled all the 'games' Edward and I used to play. He'd typically tie me up and take a paddle to my exposed ass, yet somehow I didn't think the Joker had the same thing in mind…

Now leaning forward so that our noses were mere inches apart, the clown prince gave a wicked grin while remaking, "Y'know, your Aunt Martha sure talks a lot. Good thing you didn't inherit that little yapping gene, 'cause you'd more than likely be six feet under right about now."

I jerked in surprise. "W-what have you done? Where's my aunt!?"

"Well she's at _home,_ of course! Don't worry, she's still bitching about her bunions and offering to bring up her 'yummy, blue ribbon sticky buns'" the Joker assured me, chuckling as he ran a gloved hand across my cheek. Pausing as if in thought, he cheerily added, "She was _so_ worried when you didn't come home on time, so I told her we were pulling an all-nighter so we could, uh..._finish_ our little 'unresolved issues'. Just make sure you watch your aunt closely, peaches, 'cause nosy people tend to get _hurt."_

Trembling, I ignored the pounding of my heart as I stammered, "W-well what do you propose I do, then? She's very involved in my life at the moment..."

"Well tell her to stop _driving_ you, for one thing" the Joker urged. "You're a big girl now -- or at least, I _hope_ you are -- so you're perfectly capable of coming out here on your own. I can't have that twit learning too much about me or my lifestyle, so either you come out here by yourself each day, or your dear ol' aunt may find herself in a mysterious little _'accident'."_

Immediately getting his meaning, I nodded in agreement while pressing, "And the boy? Is he still alive?"

Pursing his lips as he rocked back on his heels, the Joker clicked his tongue before returning lowly, "Well, I didn't _kill_ him, if that's what you're asking. I had a slight change of heart, considering how it'd be no fun knowing my rival's true identity. If I knew where to find him, there'd be too much of a temptation to exterminate the little rodent, and since I'm so bipolar and can't ever de-cide whether or not I _want_ Batsy to live, I think it'd be safest to keep his identity under wraps, don't you?"

Nodding just to please him, I gave him a hopeful look while asking, "Do you think you could just let me go home now? I'm sure my aunt is worried sick..."

_"Again_ with the flighty relative!" the Joker scoffed, his eyes boring into mine with a feverish annoyance. "Don't you ever think for yourself, gum drop? It's people like you who _reeeally_ piss me off, 'cause you de-pend on everyone and don't re-ly on your own common sense. Without Batsy, how would you keep yourself from getting into trouble, hmm? Would you cuh-_ling_ to the skirts of your aunt and pray to your _God_ to save you from harm?"

A fury unlike any I'd ever experienced filled me at that moment, my teeth gritting as I struggled about in my restraints like a fish caught on land. I'd never felt the desire to harm someone before, but at that moment I genuinely wanted to claw his eyes out. I've always been a delicate creature, so I naturally didn't appreciate the derision in his voice and the sneer on his lips as he gazed down at me. His eyes seemed to glimmer with excitement at my fury, which only made me all the angrier. How dare he get his jollies from making fun of me!?

"Ooh-hoo, well wouldja look at that? The kitten actually has _claws_ under that cute little exterior!" Leaning in close, he slyly urged "So tell me this, gum drop: do you want to _hurt_ me? Do you wanna take one of my knives and _cut_ into my _skin?_ Hmm? Is the thought of ending my life so utterly _enjoyable_ that you can't stand the thought of me living a moment longer?"

Trembling with anger and fear – how was he able to decipher my own thoughts so easily? – I bit my lip and promptly shook my head. I didn't like the idea of him knowing my innermost desires, so I tried my best to prove him wrong. Unfortunately for me, I'd never been a very good actress.

Feeling his hands on my wrists, I looked up at him in confusion once I realized he was untying my restraints. Puzzled by this unexpected turn of events, I watched on in bewilderment as he concentrated solely on the task at hand, his tongue peeking out of his mouth before he gave a pleased little "There!" and patted my cheek. "Aaaall better now, beautiful, so that means you're free to go back to your meaningless, pa-_thet_-ic life scrubbing your aunt's feet!"

Both hurt and infuriated by his words, I gave an almost animalistic snarl as I lunged straight for his throat, a pleased little whoop escaping his lips as we both toppled to the ground. Rolling around on the floor like two growling little puppies (me from anger and him from mocking me), I found that I could concentrate on nothing but trying to hurt him…to make him _suffer._

Digging my nails into the base of his neck, I felt his flesh split beneath my touch and bring forth tiny droplets of blood, his eyes rolling back in his head with a pleased snarl as he taunted "Thaaat's it, my little kitten – embrace your darker side and _hurt_ me!"

Disgusted that the freak was enjoying my emotional turmoil, I reared back and struck him just as he rolled us over and pinned me to the floor. Using his narrow hips to keep me in place, he flicked out his blade and placed it against my jugular. My mouth parted in surprise as our eyes locked, mine questioning and his taunting.

"Well what's _wrong,_ beautiful?" he pressed, the sharp serrations of the blade now digging into my skin. "Are you by chance…a-_fraaaaid?"_

Merely closing my eyes in response, I gave a breathy sigh when I felt the knife cutting into my supple flesh, my hands grasping at the lapels of his coat as a hint of blood dribbled down my neck.

Leaning forward and catching the droplet with his tongue, the Joker gave a pleased little murmur before licking my wound, my nails now digging into his shoulders as I lifted my hips in anticipation. The sensation of the pain and pleasure made me shudder, my nipples tightening as heat exploded between my thighs and pulsed there wetly. _"Oh…"_

Suddenly seeming to notice my arousal, the Joker growled and swiped his blade across my exposed arm out of retaliation. Opening my mouth in a silent scream, I gave a gasp of delight and bumped my hips urgently against his. Confused by my actions, the Joker's gaze grew dark and furious as he stabbed the blade into my shoulder, a moan of anguished delight escaping my lips as he gave it a twist for good measure. The burning, white hot sensation of steel tearing through muscle made me heady with desire, my heart pounding with excitement from this terrifying experience. I was enamored and repulsed by this man…this _monster_ who was able to give and take life with one glorious flick of his wrist. Even though the Joker seemed intent on harming me, I'd honestly never felt more alive in my entire life.

"Don't stop" I rasped, the desperation in my voice surprising both me and my attacker. Placing my hand over the Joker's bloodied one, I urged him to push the knife in deeper as I begged "Please, sir…_never stop."_

A flash of fury alighted the Joker's eyes at that moment, for he seemed to realize that he'd just lost his precious control. I wasn't like all his other victims, for I didn't cry, I didn't whine, and I most _certainly_ didn't beg for my life, because his torture seemed to be the only thing keeping me _truly_ alive.

With a snarl, the Joker reared back and clocked me across the face, his wrath only mounting when I gave a pleased little whimper and dug my nails into his chest. "Hit me again" I urged, my eyes darkened with longing as I licked my busted lip. The Joker took note of my bloody mouth as well, the sound of his heavy breathing filling my senses as he leaned forward and flicked his tongue across my lips. When he moved to do it again, I grasped the back of his head and sucked on his invasive tongue, his body stiffening in surprise when I moaned and linked a leg around his waist.

Tasting my blood on his lips, I forced his scarred mouth against mine as we bit and groped at one another, an animalistic growl rumbling in his chest when I felt him strike me as before. Only this time, I somehow managed to catch his wrist, my body rolling over top of his as I took his knife and sliced open the front of his shirt. I felt his hips give an involuntary jerk in response, his stiff arousal now situated nicely between my thighs as I gave a quivering breath. Slashing the blade across his chest, I felt my panties dampen when I heard him groan and make delicious little curses, his tongue swiping across his lower lip as I lifted the knife to my mouth and hesitantly licked at the blade. Even amidst my most masochistic rituals, I'd never once been aroused by the thought of ingesting a lover's blood, but somehow the thought of swallowing his essence – hell, _any_ part of him – made me all hot and bothered.

Before I could even think to cut him again, the Joker gave a growl and wrenched me back beneath him, his hands holding my wrists over my head in a bone-crushing grip as his dark eyes locked with mine. Breathing heavily, I struggled half-heartedly beneath him, but this only seemed to aggravate his growing erection. With his eyes momentarily rolling back in his head, he gave a soft snarl as I repeated my actions, my fascination budding as I watched his features transform into that of carnal lust.

Sliding his hands around my throat and squeezing, the Joker situated himself in between my legs before giving a violent thrust, a yelp escaping my throat as he did it again and again. The friction was delicious, but the entire situation made me want to retch. How could I _possibly_ be aroused by this monster? He'd done all but kill me, and yet…

Oh, _God,_ he was awful, misguided, and perfect all at the same time.

With a gasp when the Joker bit down on the sensitive skin of my neck, I heard him growl against my heated flesh before he licked at the afflicted area, animalistic grunts escaping his lips as he began to roughly dry-hump me through the short, stretchy fabric of my black skirt. His groans becoming more desperate, he lifted my legs to rest around his hips so he could hammer more urgently against my heat, his mouth falling down upon mine as he licked, bit, and groped at my body amidst his fervid desperation.

Slipping a hand in between our bodies, the Joker dipped his hand past my panties and shuddered when he felt how deliciously _wet_ I was, his lips now hovering over mine as he asked, "What is it you _want_ from me, hmm? Do you want _this?"_ Curling his fingers inside me, he began to probe for the special spot that would bring me to my knees, a triumphant smirk coming to his lips when I trembled and moaned softly beneath him. "Or maybe you'd rather this?" the Joker tried again, abruptly withdrawing his fingers before pulling my heat flush against his clothed arousal.

Giving a strangled whimper in response, my eyes rolled back in my head when his hips began to grind against mine at a more feverish pace, my thighs squeezing his waist as I arched my back and screamed. It was no true surprise that he'd already brought me to a violent orgasm, my core pulsing wetly as my desire flooded into my panties.

My sudden outburst seemed to have doused the Joker's passion, for the look in his eyes turned feral as he yanked me to my knees. "Get out" he hissed, his voice noticeably strained.

"B-but I-"

"Get _out!"_ he barked, my heart lurching as I frantically scrabbled to my feet.

My legs felt like rubber due to my former disposition, yet I managed to make it to the door before the Joker could change his mind and cut me to pieces. My pulse thudded hollowly in my ears as I entered the stairwell and paused to catch my breath, my hand coming over my heart as I closed my eyes and quivered.

I'd let that monster _touch_ me, and then…oh God, he'd dry-humped me into an _orgasm!_

Embarrassed by this sudden realization, I took a deep breath to calm my nerves, then forced my rubbery legs to move so I could descend the staircase. If there was one thing I knew to be certain, it was that my Aunt Martha would be full of questions upon my return, and I needed to be prepared to lie.

A/N: Huzzah for major suckage. The End.


	5. Mistaken Identity

**A/N - **Graah, I am SO sorry for dropping off the face of the planet like this, but I honestly didn't know where I was taking this, AND I had severe writer's block...and since that's a lethal combination to _any_ writer, this late update is the result. With that said, I hope it's worth it!

**CH 5: Mistaken Identity  
**

"Lee? What's wrong, buttercup?"

Cringing due to being addressed, I shook my head and rotated my glass in my hand. "Nothing, Aunt Martha, I'm just...I'm just not very hungry, I guess."

"Aww, my poor little bunny -- are you sick?"

I wasn't, but I think I was about to be...

Swallowing with the hopes of easing my parched throat, I weakly asked "Um...do you think you could _not_ call me 'little bunny'? It, um...I mean...I'm a grown woman now, so I need to remain professional."

Seeming to buy my explanation, Aunt Martha nodded while agreeing "Well certainly, honey -- I'd hate to cramp the working girl's style, after all!" With a broad smile on her face, she leaned forward and patted my knee. "How was your business meeting last night?"

"Um...fine" I lied, jiggling my foot as I hugged myself for support. My nails were digging so deeply into my arms that they split through flesh, yet I naturally welcomed the pain as I added "Uh, Aunt Martha? Um...my boss told me I need to come to work alone from now on, so do you think you could stop driving me?"

"W-well, I-"

_"Please?"_

Appearing momentarily bewildered by my desperation, Aunt Martha finally beamed while agreeing "Well of course, my darling -- if your boss says you need to come to work alone, I guess I can't very well say no!"

I gave an inward sigh of relief. It was times like these that I loved how dim she was.

After finishing up my orange juice, I practically flew out the door and started my trek toward the Narrows, all the while wishing I could've just taken a sick day. I mean, what was the proper decorum to uphold after dry-humping your boss? Did you still act polite and as if nothing ever happened, or did you just drop the act and pursue your desires? ...Not that I _wanted_ to pursue my so-called desires. The Joker was a monster, and it was about time I understood that. I mean, just because I momentarily lost my head doesn't mean I actually _liked_ him.

Checking my watch for the umpteenth time, I muttered a curse before finding myself careening straight into some poor, unsuspecting man, my hand muffling a cry from my lips as I squeaked "Oh my God, I am _so_ sorry! I-I-I know there's no law to forgive people for being klutzy, but I can assure you I'm an all-natural klutz and do this all the time, so..." I abruptly trailed off, suddenly taking note of the way this stranger was staring at me. He seemed..._emotional,_ somehow.

Before I could even think to ask what was wrong, he gave a shudder-filled _"Rachel?"_ before passing a hand over his mouth, his eyes alighting with complete euphoria as he grabbed me and pulled me into his arms. "Oh God, Rachel, we thought we'd lost you! How did you manage to escape the warehouse? Did Batman help you fake your death to evade the Joker?"

Completely bewildered by this man's words, I uneasily wriggled free of his grasp -- he was making it rather hard to _breathe_ -- my blue eyes raising to meet with his as I meekly returned "I'm sorry, sir, but I...I don't know who you are. And my name isn't Rachel, it's Lee...Lee Holloway."

When he gave me a bemused, crestfallen look of surprise, I couldn't help but wish that I actually _was_ this 'Rachel'. Even though I had no obligation to this man whatsoever, I somehow felt responsible for his inner turmoil. Why, I did not know, and yet...

I immediately froze.

Didn't the Joker once tell me I reminded him of someone? Of some "poor, foolish little bunny" whom he _killed?_

Swallowing, I looked back up at this man and urged "You mentioned the Joker...tell me what he's done."

The man pressed his lips into a grim line, then promptly shook his head. "I'm sorry, but I'm afraid I'm not at liberty to disclose..."

"Please" I urged, "it's very important. If I resemble this 'Rachel', doesn't that mean I'm at risk? I think I have a right to know what's going on."

The man appeared momentarily conflicted, but he soon nodded while taking me by the arm. "Alright, ma'am...let's go."

--

I couldn't explain why I'd been so aggressive and demanding earlier on, but now that I was sitting in the MCU with a cup of hot chocolate, I felt shy and completely unsure of myself. I mean, now that I was there, did I even _want_ to know the truth anymore? What if it brought more pain than it was worth? And if it did, could I return to work for the Joker with a clear conscience?

Gazing meekly down into my cup, I blew at the steam as I felt Gordon's eyes burning into me like two invasive, red-hot pokers. I know he'd explained how I resembled the illustrious Rachel Dawes, but did he have to look at me so _strongly?_ It made me feel uncomfortable and inferior, especially since he'd spent the past twenty minutes raving about what a warm, wonderful person she'd been. If anything, I felt as though he was constantly comparing us to one another, what with his constant remarks on our vast differences. He'd get this disappointed look on his face before deciding "Maybe you're not so much alike after all", and the way he'd say it made me feel lowly and undesirable. Gordon had made it clear that Rachel had been like a daughter to him, but did that mean he had to drag me through the dirt in the process?

Setting my hot chocolate down on its saucer, I timidly folded my hands in my lap and gazed down at the floor. "Why would the Joker kill all those people?" I asked, swallowing as I absently rubbed my wrist. "What does he hope to gain from it all?"

"Well, that's the million dollar question, Miss Holloway" Gordon softly acknowledged. "Even after all this time, nobody knows his age, name, or anyone directly involved from his past. All he truly seems interested in is proving to Gotham that we're all just like him."

"But we're _not_ like him" I feebly insisted. "There are still people out there who are pure and good."

Gordon gave a half-smile, but it was noticeably forced. "That's what I try to tell myself everyday" he softly agreed, "but sometimes you have to go by the phrase 'trust no one'. I can't even rely on my own men half the time."

"But how do you...?" Trailing off, I frowned as I gazed down into the murky depths of my drink and shook my head. I didn't understand any of this, but at the very least I wanted to prove I had _somewhat_ of a head on my shoulders. Before I could even think to speak again, however, I heard a loud gunshot and several screams from down the hallway. Turning to give Gordon a look of horror, he held his hand out to me as he rose and gave a terse "Stay here", his free hand retrieving his gun as he briskly raced toward the door.

Anxiously ringing my hands in my lap, I tried my best not to concentrate on the mayhem occurring down the hallway, my body instinctively jolting when I heard yet another gunshot. Unable to take the cries of agony, I clapped my hands over my ears and shuddered. I'd never been a fan of death, and something definitely told me the screams I was hearing were preludes to the afterlife.

In that instant, a loud bang sounded and the door swung open, my eyes widening as the clown prince himself burst across the threshold with a manic grin on his face.

"Well hello, hello, _hello!_ Such a _love_-uh-ly day for murder and mayhem, wouldn't you a-_greee?_ In fact, I think I'll include _you_ in my plans -- the fact that we ran into each other without warning has to mean _something,_ after all!"

Barely able to swallow the lump in my throat, I moved to give a feeble response, but instead could only yelp as he pulled me roughly to my feet. "Let _go_ of me!" I screamed, but he held on fast.

"What, so suddenly I'm not _good_ enough for you? 'Cause, uh...we seemed a little joined at the _hip_ last time, if you know what I mean" the Joker cheekily reminded me, giggling as he began dragging me toward the exit.

Feeling as if my cheeks were on fire, I found that I could only grimace in response since he was absolutely right. I _had_ been too 'friendly' with him during our last encounter, and I tried to assure myself that my damn 'divorce hormones' were to blame.

As he dragged me down the hallway, I gave a scream when a bullet smashed into the overhead light, shards of glass raining down upon us as the Joker gave a giddy filled whoop.

"Hold your fire! He's got a hostage!" I heard Gordon shout.

Turning my head to look over my shoulder, I felt my heart leap into my throat at the sight of at least 15 guns aimed at me and my assailant, my breath growing shallow as the Joker tugged me down yet another corridor.

"We're trapped!" I exclaimed, feeling light-headed when I spotted nothing but a large window before us.

Chuckling, the Joker deviously purred "And _this_ is where the _fun_ begins", a shriek escaping my lips when he raised his gun and fired right through the glass.

Realizing what he was about to make me do, I tried digging my heels into the floor as he gruffly pulled me forward, my voice shrill as I snapped "Are you _nuts!?"_

With a giggle, the Joker slipped an arm around my waist and stepped up onto the ledge, a finger coming to his lips as he mockingly declared "Me? _Nuts?_ No, no, only on days that end in "Y"_,_ sweetcheeks!"

Before I could reprimand him for being a smart ass, we were suddenly airborne and I screamed, the wind whistling through my hair as my skirt blew up to an embarrassing degree. Feeling my stomach do several agonizing flip-flops, I was just about to vomit when our bodies suddenly collided with a large awning, my heart fluttering in my chest like a sparrow's once I realized we were alive. How, I did not know, but I could hear Gordon shouting from overhead to deploy all units.

"And _that's_ our cue to exit" the Joker announced, grinning as he held onto the edge of the awning and hoisted us down to the ground. My heels clattered against the sidewalk and I gracelessly wobbled, but the clown prince didn't allow me to fall since he was dragging me toward some big, ugly white van.

When he punched a hole through the driver's window, I gasped as my hands fluttered to my throat. "What are you doing? Why didn't you just use your key!?"

_"What_ key?" the Joker asked, giving me a bemused look. "Last time I checked, grand theft auto didn't require using any type of _keys!"_

"I don't believe this" I groaned, covering my face as I heard him finally open the door. "Can't you ever do _anything_ legal!?"

"Well sure" the Joker agreed, "but where's the fun in _that?_ Now get in the car before Gordy and his pigs ruin our little _date."_

"B-but...!"

_"Get_ in the _car!"_

Wincing as he gestured sharply toward the inside of the van, I bit my tongue and begrudgingly entered the vehicle, anxiously tugging at my skirt to make sure he didn't get a sneak peek at my prided granny panties. They may be deemed unfashionable by some, but I've always put comfort over vanity.

Noticing the Joker leering at my attempt at modesty, I was about to stick my tongue out at him when he suddenly slammed down on the gas, my body lurching forward as we took off so fast we were practically driving on two wheels.

"Slow _down!"_ I shrieked, covering my eyes when we just barely missed an oncoming car.

"Slow _down"_ the Joker mocked, "we're going to _diiiiie!"_ Rolling his eyes, he irritably fired back "Beautiful, I've been driving for _years,_ so I think I know a thing or two about staying on the road!"

"Well maybe so, but that doesn't mean you drive very _well!"_

Yelping when we turned sharply to the right, I was about to reprimand him yet again before a large, black shape flew over our windshield and blocked our view.

"Ooh-hoo, well if it isn't my good friend, Guano Man!" the Joker exclaimed, grinning as he began veering the van from left to right. "C'mon Batsy, is that the best you can do!?"

As if in answer to his mocking query, Batman's fist smashed right through the windshield and scattered glass in my face, my hands covering my mouth as I tried my best not to scream. What was he _doing?_ I didn't think heroes tried to get people _killed!_

With a snarl, the Joker jerked the van sharply back and forth as if caught in a fishtail, his hand reaching into his pocket before withdrawing a small pistol.

I gasped. "What are you doing!?"

Wordlessly raising the gun in answer, the Joker fired at the dark knight and nailed him straight in the chest, a horrified shriek escaping my lips as he went plummeting down into the street. Craning my head to see if I could spot him behind us, I felt my breath catch in my throat when I realized he wasn't moving. "Why did you _do_ that!?" I screamed, turning back toward the Joker before punching his arm. "You might have _killed_ him!"

The Joker chuckled. "Ah, but the key word there is _might_ -- there's still a good chance he's living and breathing in the bat pheromones! I mean, uh...you should've _seen_ his face just now. He appeared quite smitten."

_"Smitten?_ Since when does someone look smitten when there's a _gun_ pointed in their face!?"

Laughing uproariously, the Joker leaned over and patted my knee, his voice condescending as he purred "Now, now, don't you worry that pretty little head of yours, gum drop. You'll soon understand your destiny."

I gave him a funny look. "What do you mean, 'my destiny'? You don't know anything about me!"

The Joker smirked, yet there was a certain darkness to his eyes. "If I told you now, you wouldn't understand."

Staring back at him in confusion, I suddenly felt hopelessly sick to my stomach. He may have avoided killing me thus far, but somehow I felt like a lamb being led to the slaughter...

**A/N:** Hopefully I can crank out the next chapter MUCH sooner than this, but sadly I can't make any promises since it's still up in the air as to where this is going. Reviews always help, though. ;P


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